


Five Times Richie and Carts Promised They'd Stay Together Forever and One Time They Actually Did

by one_day_sooner



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:54:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_day_sooner/pseuds/one_day_sooner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what it says on the box. Including gender floppery, historical settings and general Mike-and-Jeffisms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Richie and Carts Promised They'd Stay Together Forever and One Time They Actually Did

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to work on a five times with Cartsy and Richie so... Here it is!
> 
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

I.   
Georgia, 1864

"Don't worry, darling," Jeffrey said softly into his love's ear, brushing her dark curls from her face. "The war will be over soon. The South will rise again, and we'll be married before the next winter comes."

Michelle's tiny, white gloved hands rested on his chest, the deep blue of his dress uniform making them all the brighter as she grasped a button, holding loosely. "But the Union is declaring a victory already. Father says they claim the South will burn and we may lose everything." Her serious eyes looked into his, his hands resting on her waist and his own bright eyes staring back intently. 

"Then we will find a way to be as we are, build our families and lives so that all are as free as the men and women we work with here." Jeff said, kissing her gently. "The neighbors don't understand why our two families do as we do. In the end of it all, we won't lose everything if have each other, and the respect of our fellow men."

"I can do without respect my love. It is you I cannot do without."

"Captain Carter.  General Holgrin needs you, Sir."

"Thank you, Private. Allow me one more moment before I take my leave of my beloved."

"Yes sir."

"Plan our wedding, my love," he whispered, raising a hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. "Wear the green dress with white bows when I come home, for it was always my favorite on you."

"I will," she whispered back, letting him take her little hand in his. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand, bowing at the waist. "I love you. I'll be with you always." 

Jeff smiled and tapped the chest pocket of his fine coat. "Always."

******

Seemingly weeks later, Atlanta was burning. The Union army was taking over buildings and the Richards and Carter families were some of the few lucky enough to escape with their lives and some of their workers, fleeing north, north, north until they reached the Canadian border and kept running. Master Richards received a telegraph from the Savannah office shortly after the evacuation, informing him that Michelle's love would be home no more, his body at rest in the hills of Tennessee, a simple marker declaring the resting place one Captain Jeffrey Carter of the Confederate Army. The grayscale picture of Michelle in her beautiful green dress stayed in his coat pocket over his heart, stained and torn but still lovely. 

Michelle never took off her ring and never stopped waiting for Jeffrey to come back home to her. 

II.  
Rome, 117

"Manius, whatever are you doing here? Certainly you understand you're due to speak at the senate in no more than an hour's time."

"A house of obstinate fools, Appius. They have no more sense than this goat, and far worse manners." Manius raised an eyebrow at his old friend and continued grooming the goat that bleated ill-humoredly at the man who cared for it.

"Truth though that is, you and I are the only ones able to convince them to not destroy our farmland for a training ground for the Republic's army.  The families here need us, Manius."

"Surely you've not forgotten our rebuffs. How the agora went up over Marcus' farmland in spite of impassioned pleas, how Darius lost his family because none survived the search for a new land?  We cannot change the Senate's collective mind, though it is small as a single grain."

Appius hissed slightly. "Hold your tongue or lose it, friend. Though the politics are not always intelligible, and the logic not always present, I shall not have you questioning the basis of our society."

"You are right as usual, Appius. Forgive me. Come. I need your assistance in fixing my ridiculous robes to make myself presentable to the Senate."

If the pair spent a little more time than strictly necessary touching over tanned skin and running hands through curls and waves, no one had to know. 

******

"Esteemed Senators, my brother and I come to you with a plea not only from ourselves, but our families in the farmland you seek to repurpose. We-"

"Dearest citizen Appius, we have carefully considered the impact your few farms would have on the Republic. Manius has the finest goats in Rome, and the fabric his wife weaves makes Ceasar's wife practically purr with joy." 

Appius frowned slightly at the mention of Manius' wife, the short, strong woman with dark hair who resembled himself so completely. It brought him back to images of his own wife, a tall light haired woman with a wide smile and easy laugh. He shook himself when Manius nudged him gently, listening once again to the fat Senator as he droned on. 

"Our decision has been made, although destroying even one citizen's livelihood pains us greatly. The families on the land are to be moved to another land, fertile and ripe to be farmed, and your land shall be used as a training field. There are enemies far and wide that even the gods don't see fit for us to know yet. We must be prepared, keep Mars honored by never allowing our army to falter."

"This is madness!" yelled Appius, his rage clear on his face. Manius grabbed hold of him, keeping him from launching himself at the Senator. "Let go of me, fool!" he hissed to his friend, striking out not to injure but to be turned loose. Manius feigned a struggle to contain him, knowing the only thing the government took note of was violence. Appius broke free and charged the Senator, striking him in  the jowls and pulling a small, copper handled knife from his robes and plunging it through the fat man's lung. "You may punish me if you will but know that I was the one who destroyed you like you did my father. He was a good man, Cassius, and you left him to die by the fountain.  For what? An ascent to a life of gluttony and greed." Appius twisted the knife, digging it further into the other's flesh. "Suffer now, at the end of your pathetic life."

****** 

There was no trial. Appius was condemned to death for the planning and murder of a Senator. Before his last breath escaped, Appius spoke his last words to Manius, quiet and sure: "Be it this life or another, we shall meet again."

III.   
New York City, 1888

"A Mister Michael Richards is at the door, Miss Carter."

"Splendid, James. Show him into the drawing room and I shall be in shortly." Jessica smiled and fixed her hair, tucking a wild strand into her full bun. She wasn't sure why Michael was calling since her father was out of the house for the day's business,  but she would appear as necessary to keep her family's name as good as it always had been. The Richards family was in the oil business, and the Carters were steel barons, though both families were generous and kind. The matriarchs of the families raised their sons handsome and strong and their daughters gentle and beautiful. 

Jessica swept down the stairs in a deep burgundy and pale rose dress, her smile small and lips a sweet pink as they formed a greeting. "Mister Richards, it is such a pleasure to meet you. My father speaks so highly of you. I'm glad to see he didn't simply create you to restore my faith in the male population."

"Thank you kindly, Miss Carter. From what my mother told us boys, there isn't a flower in the garden more beautiful than you. I'm sorry to say she severely understated your grace." 

Jessica blushed faintly at the young man's forwardness and his kind overlooking of her own quick wit. "Please, have a seat, Mister Richards. How may the house of Carter help you, kind sir?"

"I had hoped to speak to your father, Miss Carter. Please forgive my impropriety in asking this favor of you, but perhaps you can persuade your father to assist us. After all, each of the Carter ladies has a better sense than most of the business world's men." 

"I can try, Mister Richards. Whatever is the problem?"

"Miss Carter...  We are in need of assistance. My father has suggested that..." he sighed and lowered his head. "That the eldest four children of these fine families marry to strengthen the two companies."

Jessica wasn't blind to the way the family business worked. She knew that there were laws in the works to prevent businesses from growing too large, and before long there would be a dismantling or even destruction of the companies their families worked so hard to build. The only way to stop total destruction would be to break the companies up...  On paper at least. 

"Well, Mister Richards, I hope you forgive my impropriety, but I shall never agree to marry a man with whom I have never walked beneath the blossoming trees. If this is to happen, there must be some courtship, to at least make the papers believe we are truly enamored."

"Of course, Miss Carter. I would rather see our families joined by true love rather than need, but the times being as they are, I will do anything to help father as I'm sure you will for yours."  
   
"Of course, Mister Richards. I have a feeling we shall have a long, lovely partnership. I'll talk to father when he returns for the day."

******

The weddings occurred in June, opulent and glittering, with society's finest in attendance, and by request of the brides, at the same time. Jessica practically danced down the aisle, her eyes on Michael as she walked toward her husband to be. She took his hands and smiled softly behind her veil, reciting vows that made Michael smile, her eyes locked on his and her hands shaking even as her words came clear and true. 

"I will love and cherish, honor and obey, for better or worse, in sickness and health," she said, waiting until her new husband lifted her veil to cut her eyes away from Michael and towards her husband. "Til death do us part.  Amen."

IV.   
Caribbean Sea, 1717

" Funny how this worked out, eh Jeff?" Mike asked from his place, tied to the mast to be tormented by the ship's crew. His friend stood by, not participating in the torture but watching, silently biting his lips and apologizing with his eyes. He couldn't look as the order was given and his childhood friend was nearly cut in half by weapons fire. 

******

Two young boys scampered through the filthy city streets, yelling and jostling each other. The taller boy lifted his friend to his shoulders, laughing as he reached for the roof of his home, scrambling up after a bit of a boost. He looked over the edge at the other boy and waved, some his childhood teeth missing and his cheeks pink with glee. 

"Until tomorrow, friend!" he called, disappearing through a window and leaving the other boy to run to his own home. 

******

The two boys grew into handsome, strong teens, their bodies tanned and muscled and steps in perfect sync. Though one was smaller still, the other never mentioned it, their constant companionship making the young ladies approach them in pairs rather than alone, ignoring their kind refusals to dance in favor of each other's company. 

They still scrambled up to rooftops to look at the sky when their day's work was done, Mike pointing out stars and Jeff pretending not to remember which constellation he loved most. "One day I'll find that star, Jeff," Mike promised. "And I'll sail to the end of the world to keep it in my sights." Jeff smiled and sat up, tugging his shirt off and pointing at his shoulder. 

"I hope you never have to go that far," he murmured, hissing slightly when Mike's fingers ran over the raised skin and dark ink dotting his friend's shoulders in the shape of his favorite gathering of stars. "You just have to find me, and I'll never be far. I promise you that."

Mike leaned forward and pressed his lips to the fresh tattoo. "Since I'm with you always, now, I suppose I should show you." He lifted his shirt, displaying a pair of swallows on his chest. "I'll always find my way home, back to you, no matter how far I stray.  I'm leaving soon, Jeff. I have to join the Navy, or Father will throw me out. Mother begged him to let me stay and work in the yards but he won't allow it."

Far from asking him not to go, Jeff smiled and tugged his shirt back on. "When are we leaving? You know I'll be there by your side, through this all. Although you'll look ludicrous in the naval uniforms, I have to say." 

"We? You're coming with me?"

"As though I'd let you serve our country alone. Don't be silly." Jeff leaned in and wrapped his friend in a hug. "Let us make our home proud. Two officers from one town!"

****** 

One of the boys dropped out of the Naval Academy, leaving his counterpart heartbroken but determined to be the officer they spoke of. The other joined a pirate crew, more and more tattoos joining the one he shared on a summer rooftop but never covering up the design he hoped would help him find his other half again. The two boys didn't meet again until many years later, the two fine young men now on opposite ships in a battle, one with a Union Jack flying proudly, the other a black field of warning, a skull growling at the world. 

The battle at sea was fierce, neither side surrendering until it was down to the last man on one side, Mike smirking slightly as Jeff took him across to his ship as a prisoner. "I knew I'd find home again," Mike murmured, his fingers flexing to curl around Jeff's behind his back. 

"However you needed to get there, Mike." Jeff whispered back, tying his old friend to the mast and hoping this would all be done soon. 

V.   
France, 1790

"The aristocrats are sickening, and you know that as well as I citizens!" Michel cried out, the cheap wine in his glass sloshing around as his arms waved in disgust.  Geoffrey shook his head and took a sip of his, content to listen to Michel and his rebel rousing speeches while he gathered notes for his next series of pamphlets against the aristocracy. His partner was the better speaker, silver tongued and slight, the epitome of the common man, while Geoffrey wrote his moving words and printed them en masse to leave on doorsteps and in taverns, ready to incite the good people of France against the slovenly upper classes. 

The pair was on the edge of a movement, young scholars and thinkers all fighting the powers that were, the rich growing richer and the poor getting poorer. The two young men were always together, Geoff's handsome face drawing the young ladies in and Michel's words keeping them there to learn, whisper new knowledge to their husbands, brothers and fathers when the men returned from a day's work. Worlds were being upended daily, and the two men were simply the leverage needed to push things into a tumble. With the rebellious Americans declaring and gaining their freedom from the British, the French people had a certain amount of pride in their assist to the young nation, and before long began wondering "Why not us?  Why not free our beloved France from tyranny as the new country did themselves?"

The men carried on, surreptitiously planting seeds in minds of the young French while acting like the upstanding citizens when the government officials came by the print shop where Geoff worked and the bakery where Michel spent his days. In nights at the cafe, the pair would write and speak, taking in information from the palace guards, the dissatisfied police, even politicians who wanted a change they couldn't make themselves. 

The partners met with the people of Paris for years, discussing and planning a revolution quietly and carefully. It was a shock when one night the men didn't show up to the small cafe. Word had slipped from a sympathetic guard that Geoff had been arrested and would be put to death for treason against the monarchy. With his refusal to name his partner in the acts brought the full wrath of the King upon him, his death to be carried out in the public square to be made an example of. 

******

The morning of Geoff's execution dawned bright and clear, the man so frail and malnourished he looked nothing like the well-built, handsome man that had been taken from the steps of the print shop as he was closing it up months prior. Geoffrey looked up, looking for one face only as he scanned the gathered crowd. Upon finding Michel, he smiled faintly and mouthed "ubtil we meet again, my love." before yelling "For France! Stay true!"

Michel was the only one that day who couldn't bear to look as the head and body ceased to be one unit. 

+1

"Jeff, sit down please." 

Jeff took his sunglasses off and sat, rubbing red eyes and looking at the team's GM. 

"What's going on?  You realize it's what? 8 am?"

"We're waiting on Mike, Jeff. We need to have a conversation I'm absolutely sure no one will enjoy."

Jeff's stomach dropped a little, and he sobered up slightly at the words. He'd left Mike the night before, curled around his pillow and smelling Jeff's skin on his sheets. He headed back home with Mike's kiss still bruising his lips and his shirt stretched over a bigger frame than it was usually on. Mike walked in with two coffees, his own vanilla flavored and extra creamy, Jeff's nearly black with three raw sugars. Their fingers brushed and Jeff smiled, his eyes catching the indulgent look on Mike's face as he handed over the coffee. 

"Sit down, Mike. Now that you're both here, we have some...  Well, news for you. We had a nice talk with Dean Lombardi and Scott Howson yesterday. We're doing some shuffling within the organization."

Mike took a long drink of his coffee and looked over at Jeff, raising an eyebrow over the edge of his cup. Jeff shrugged. He had absolutely no idea who they were. For all he cared they were people he would have to kiss up to at some media event soon, welcome some rookies in or something. He didn't care much, already having forgotten the promise of bad news given by the man across the desk and began to think of the breakfast he and Mike would go out for after this meeting. 

"We want to thank you boys for your dedication to this team. We'll miss you and we wish you both luck with your new teams."

"New...  What?" Jeff asked, upending his coffee as he stood, turning back to stare at Mike in disbelief. 

"I. They're trading me to LA." Mike whispered, his gaze following the dark coffee flowing down Jeff's shorts instead of meeting his eyes. "You're getting shipped off to Columbus."

"But we signed those deals. We aren't supposed to go anywhere! We're supposed to stay together!" Jeff yelled, flailing slightly. Mike grabbed his arm and tugged him close. 

Mike whispered "Let's go Jeff. They made their choice." 

******

"So how's LA, baby?" Jeff asked, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear as he stepped off the bus, picking his bag up and hoisting it up to his other shoulder. "Playing nice out there?"

Rick raised an eyebrow and leaned over, asking one of the rookies who the hell Jeff was talking to so lovingly. The kid shrugged, saying his girlfriend most likely and answered his phone at the call from his mom. 

Jeff rolled his eyes at Mike's descriptions of the team, laughing at the way he mimicked Doughty's nervous "You Know"s and Brownie's whistling, toothless speech. "The concussion sucks though. I felt like I was starting to really get into a swing out here, yanno?  Anyway, how about you?  Heard you got hurt again."

"Yeah. I'm day to day and I'm sure it's endearing me further to the good people of Columbus."

"Stop it, Jeff. You know it isn't your fault. Shots bounce weird. Things happen. You'll be okay I promise. I gotta go though. Lewie and Marty let themselves in  here to drag me out. Drew is in the car."

"Where are you off to?"

"Some sushi joint Lewis is obsessed with. I'll text you when I get back home. Love you."

"Love you too. I'll come back to you someday, and it'll be forever."

"I'll pick you up at the airport when you do. And it was always forever. Bye Jeff."

"Bye babe."

******

"Jeff, sit down please."

Jeff looked weary, his eyes rimmed in red from being up late talking Mike through the trade deadline worry, telling him he was nuts to worry about LA shuffling him off for anyone just because his points were down a little.  

"Sir? What can I do for you?" he asked quietly, knowing full well the deadline was coming up and he was the most expendable one in the organization. He expected to hear "Calgary", "Winnipeg" or "Edmonton", maybe "Carolina" or "Nashville", when the sentence began "We're trading you to...", but when the man behind the desk sighed and said "Los Angeles," it was all Jeff could do to not jump up and shout for joy. 

******

Jeff arrived with a carry on and a single suitcase, a garment bag keeping his best suit neat and ready for press events. All of that landed on the floor with a yell when he saw Mike leaning against the baggage claim wearing a Dodgers hat and twirling his keys around his fingers nervously. Mike looked up with a start and yelled back, practically running over and wrapping Jeff in a hug that was bigger than anyone knew Mike could give.

"I uh, I got the day off practice." Mike admitted sheepishly. "Coach Sutter knew I wouldn't be focused if I went in today."

Jeff laughed and picked up his bags, dumping them in Mike's Range Rover and taking his hand the second they were both buckled in. "This is it, Mike. This time it's forever."

"It was always forever, Jeff. This time we have a team that gets that."

******

Four months later, Jeff took the Cup for his celebratory lap, hooting and yelling, the black LA logo on his chest, and the same one on Mike's. The pair had essentially until the end of their careers inked in with the Kings, and renewed whenever their contracts were up. They'd been promised before that they'd never be apart but the fans and management in LA made sure of that. Eventually, Jeff and Mike's numbers were lifted into the rafters of the Staples Center alongside multiple championship banners, and they accepted jobs in the team's scouting office when they could no longer play, even their offices side by side. 

In the end, they drove each other crazy as all good couples do, and spent the rest of their lives always in each others pockets. Mike threatened to leave Jeff a handful of times and Jeff would storm off sometimes himself, but they always came back home.  Mike took his last breath one cold morning in Kenora, and Jeff took his moments later, their hands linked and bodies pressed close. 

This time, it really was forever.


End file.
